Sitting across the bistro table with his dark sunglasses, facial scruff, jeans, and black button-down shirt, Nick looked decidedly bad-boyish for a wine tasting. Not that Jordan particularly minded. No offense to the guys she typically dated, but Nick blew them all out of the water.
“You drive a hard bargain,” he said in reference to her negotiations with Claire.
She waved this off. “What I proposed is a good arrangement for everyone.” A light breeze blew her bangs into her eyes, so she smoothed them back into the bun she’d pulled her hair into after getting dressed at the hotel.
“Do you think the sales director will contact you before Monday?” he asked.
“I think the sales director will contact me before we leave here today,” she said confidently.
Nick studied her through his sunglasses. “That’s a bold call. I guess we’ll find out how good you really are.”
Claire returned with a tray filled with six glasses of wine and a basket of crackers. First, she set down the two biggest glasses, one in front of each of them. “I brought you each another glass of our cabernet. As a comparison, I thought you also might like to try some barrel tastings from next year’s vintage.” She set two smaller tasting glasses in front of each of them. “So after we harvest the grapes and ferment the wine, we fly in a professional taster from France – the renowned Philippe Fournier – and set him up in a room with samples of wine from our twenty-eight different vineyard blocks. For three days, he tastes the wine and gives us recommendations on the percentage each of the samples should contribute to our final estate cab.” She smiled. “Then everyone drinks and parties for two days, before we get back to work.” She clasped her hands together. “So, are there any questions I can answer for you at this time?”
“I think we’re good for now. Thank you,” Jordan said.
When they were alone again, Nick leaned in and spoke under his breath. “And the hundred-dollar-per-bottle question is: does any of that make a difference?”
“If people enjoy the wine enough to spend a hundred dollars on it, then sure.”
He looked skeptical.
“You can’t think of it as merely a beverage, Nick – every glass of wine is its own experience,” Jordan said. “Approach it the same way you might approach, say, a new relationship.”
He looked even more skeptical now. “A relationship?”
Jordan picked up her glass of cabernet. “Sure, think about it. You start by looking at the wine. That’s your first impression. You ask yourself, ‘Does this look good to me? Am I interested in finding out more?’ Then you get a little closer to the wine. You try out its aromas, and if it’s something you like, your body reacts instinctively, begins to hum with the anticipation of going further. You let the wine begin to tease you, draw you in, seduce you. You’re close at this point to getting a taste, but you’re not there yet. Maybe you hold out a little longer, delay that final gratification, keeping yourself right at the edge for as long as possible. And finally, when you get to the point that you just can’t wait anymore, you taste. You give yourself over to the rush, the smooth, silky feeling of the wine, its flavors, its scent, and you taste again. And again. Until you feel that flush begin to build, that warm, tingly euphoric feeling that goes on and on, even after the last drop is gone, before you slowly float down on a cloud of bliss.”
She tipped her glass at him. “Now that’s what drinking wine is about.”
Nick’s expression remained unreadable, his eyes hidden behind the dark sunglasses. Then he looked over at Claire as she passed by their table. “I think we’re going to need a second round.”
She clapped her hands with delight. “Wonderful! Glad to hear you’re enjoying the wine.”
After she left, Nick took off his sunglasses and set them on the table. He picked up his glass and tipped it to Jordan. “All right, Rhodes. For you, I’ll give it a real shot.” He swirled his glass, smelled the wine like a pro, and took a good, hearty sip.
He closed his eyes for a moment, as if debating, then he looked at her. “Black cherry. And licorice.”
Jordan’s wine-geek heart nearly burst with pride. “I knew you had it in you.”
A woman stopped at their table and introduced herself. “Jordan, hi. I’m Denise, the director of sales. Claire mentioned that you were interested in featuring our wine in your store? Let me grab a pen from the bar and we can talk specifics.”
Nick nodded, impressed, as the sales director stepped away. “Nice job.”
Jordan smiled. “I told you, Nick. This is what I do.”
NICK PULLED JORDAN into his arms as soon as they got back to their bungalow. She felt a rush of excitement – and happiness – when he bent his head to kiss her. She’d caught the way he’d looked at her during the car ride back to the resort and had sensed he’d had other things on his mind than tasting more wine. Normally, she would’ve suggested having a sunset drink on the terrace of the resort’s bar, but she was willing to bend a little … if he was, too.
He slid his hands to her waist as he kissed her neck. “So what’s next on the agenda?”
Jordan closed her eyes and thought she definitely could get used to having Nick around for wine tastings if this was what she had to look forward to afterward. “I thought we’d keep it simple, order room service, and have dinner on the deck.” It was a little chilly, but the fireplace would keep them warm. She didn’t want to miss this chance to eat under the stars – now that she finally had someone to share Napa with, she planned to go all out.
“I like that idea,” he murmured against her skin. He reached up and carefully undid the top button of her shirtdress, seemingly more patient than last time. “But room service will take at least an hour. Which means that we have some time to kill before dinner.”
Her thoughts exactly. “True. I was thinking I’d take a bath and relax for a while.”
His hands stilled on the second button of her shirtdress. “Oh. Sure.”
“I was also thinking that you could come with me.”
Nick cocked his head. “Yeah … I’m not exactly a bath kind of guy.” He got a wicked look in his eyes. “But there’s always that outdoor shower.”
Jordan shrugged nonchalantly. Nick McCall had a few too many rules – it was high time he started bending them. “Suit yourself. But if you change your mind, you know where you can find me.” She slid out from his embrace and went over to the bar.
He followed her and leaned against the wall, watching as she poured herself a glass from the half-finished bottle Barrasford Estate had given them when they’d left. Feeling Nick’s gaze on her, she headed across the terrace to the master suite. She hummed to herself as she went into the bathroom and began filling the tub. She set the wineglass on the marble ledge, adjusted the temperature of the water, and added some bath gel. She sipped her wine, letting the water run for a couple minutes before she walked back into the bedroom.
Each room of the bungalow had windows that vertically spanned three-quarters of the wall, which meant she could see across the terrace into the living room. Nick sat on the couch with the TV remote in his hand, watching a basketball game.
Jordan rolled her eyes.
Men.
He looked over and saw her watching him. She turned her back and innocently went about her business. While in front of the window, she unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor.
She just so happened to be wearing a thong right then.
She kicked the dress aside. Next, she unsnapped her bra – possibly taking a moment longer than necessary to ease the straps off her shoulders – and dropped it to the floor as well. Then she strolled into the bathroom, naked except for her thong and heels.